


seventeen

by ItsJaya



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Universe, DC Comics Rebirth, Damian Wayne Feels, Gen, Jon Kent Feels, Jon is back from space, Lois is a good mom, super besties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22024594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsJaya/pseuds/ItsJaya
Summary: Jon is back home, but nothing is going to be the same again.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lois Lane, Jonathan Samuel Kent & Damian Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent & Lois Lane
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46





	seventeen

Jon comes back seventeen and taller and Damian feels like he should be upset or sad or maybe, disappointed, but he’s not exactly displeased by these turn of events. They can still be friends, Damian tells himself as Jon gives him the same goofy grin he did not too many months ago, except without the baby fat. Richard was- is friends with those older and younger than him- what would be so different? Plus, this is  _ Jon _ , he thinks as he soars with his friend, holding onto him tightly. Why would Jon treat him any different? Why would he treat Jon any different?

Jon’s mother does  _ not _ react as well as his father and Damian did. She immediately narrows her eyes suspiciously before looking from her husband, to Jon, to her husband, to Jon again. Is Damian’s eyesight weakening, or are those tears forming in her eyes? Damian watches as Jon approaches her carefully before embracing her, his chin resting above her hair. 

“It’s okay, Mom,” his friend insists lovingly, rocking her back and forth, “it’s me! Honestly, it’s me!”

And yeah, that should’ve worked. There are countless tears and long hugs and many words of disbelief right now, but eventually, they should settle down. Now looking back, Damian can’t remember much of what happened after the awkward crying session. 

He does remember her choking out an, “I should’ve never let you out of my sight.” Damian agrees completely. What type of a parent lets their child out of their sight for that long? How would any normal parent even be able to react to this sudden change? Jon was a baby. So innocent. So energetic. He was the most normal individual in Damian’s life. Now the awfully large teenager in front of them is different- lean and sharp around all the right edges. Hell, he even has a prominent jawline that Damian is kinda-sorta-maybe jealous of. 

So now, a few months, after his friend’s return and a few weeks after his beloved Richard got back his memories and his not so beloved brother Jason came back to town, Damian sits by his father in the batmobile, feeling as lonely as he did before any of them were even back. 

.

.

.

Jon doesn’t like to think he’s lonely- nope, he’s actually receiving the most attention he ever has. His mother will not stop smothering him. Since his return, he has unfortunately been switched to a homeschooling program- apparently, his parents were going to ensure he finished all his schooling by next year so that by the time he was nineteen he could start college. His days are dreadful, stuffed with mathematics of all types and assignments that made him want to burn every single page. 

Worst of all, his mom asks him how he’s feeling every day. She asks if he wants to open up as if there’s some bottled up emotions in him that he’s unaware of. She thinks he’s sad. And no again. Jon is not sad. He is frustrated, though. 

His dad is in a better condition, but he’s still always hearing in on whatever Jon has to say to anyone and almost never lets him patrol on his own. At least, he thinks as he watches his mother space out while staring at him once again, his dad has accepted what happened. 

“Mom, if you don’t move on, I can’t move on,” Jon shouts one day, slamming his fist into his table which proceeds to split in half and the steaming coffee that had been resting on it before spilling all over the papers he had scattered around him. 

Her fists ball up and she tosses her glasses to the side, responding, “Well, I can’t, Jon! I just can’t! You’re here, but you’re not and I, I lost so many years with you and I,” if she starts crying, Jon swears, he’ll fly away, “I’ll never, ever, ever, ever get them back and you don’t even seem to care. No one seems to care. But no, I’m the crazy one holding everyone back.”

“You are holding us back. You and Dad are both so hung up on whatever happened and taking care of me like I’m ten that you’ve barely written anything, the bills are piling up and don’t think I can’t hear your boss calling and scolding you,” he yells back. He stands up and walks towards the door. She shoots up and grabs his arm- he assumes it’s supposed to be a tight grip judging by her veins popping out, but it feels like nothing significant. Her mouth is moving, but he can’t hear her. He doesn’t want to. He’s trying to check what anyone else is doing. “See you later,” Jon tells her before dashing away. 

He decides to go down to the mall for a while- his dad definitely knows where he is. The big man himself send him a message, telling him to be safe and come back soon. He responds affirmatively before exploring. It feels great to be out, but to his surprise, there aren’t many teens around. The mall is nearly empty and quite boring. He goes to a high school next and bingo, there are all the teens. One glance at his reflection then back at the group of boys cackling over some joke and he’s happy to think that he’ll definitely fit in.

Except, he won’t. He won’t ever. None of them are half-alien. None of them disappeared at 10 and came back 17 in a blink of an eye. He’s not even sure why he’s not upset that he spent seven years of his life in space. It wasn’t all bad, he’d told his mom and dad every time he related his adventures. And it had been his choice anyways. A choice he made to become a better, stronger him.

.

.

.

“I heard you’ve been patrolling,” Damian comments. They’re sitting on a roof in Gotham, empty cans of energy drink by their side. The night could be considered beautiful, Jon thinks, but they’re in Gotham. The air smells and the weather is unpleasant and the drink was too sweet and why is Damian still so short?

“Yeah, thankfully I go out with my dad sometimes. My mom is getting better, too. Heck, I even take her to the mall with me sometimes, but dude it almost always sucks there,” he replies, taking out another can. “Homeschooling sucks too. I need help, by the way. I told Mom I’ll just catch up to tenth grade and take the CHSPE.” Damian nods approvingly. “Oh, and I’m thinking of designing a new suit. Even if I change my hairstyle when I’m patrolling, any smart person should be able to figure out who I am.”

“Your father did perfectly fine using glasses as a disguise.” 

“Yeah, but Dad was pretty good at switching personalities unlike me.”

“Well work on it.”

“Oh, yeah? Let’s see you switch your personality.” Damian gave him a cheeky smile, lifting his chin to meet Jon’s gaze. “I take it back, don’t.” The scowl returns and he humphs, before taking away the drink from Jon and tossing it behind. “Tsk. Tsk. Polluting now, are we?” 

“Did I ever tell you how annoying you are?” his friends groans, but turns to pick up the can. 

“Yeah, you used to say it allll the time, dude.” There’s a short silence and Jon’s getting a bit sleepy when Damian stands up, stretching. 

“Are you fine now?” he asks, and the question doesn’t settle well. Maybe it’s ‘cause he’s heard it so many times with different words by different people.

“What do you mean?” he asks, looking up at him. 

Damian must sense something is off for he stutters out, “Well, I mean I think your father- no, my father says that he thinks you weren’t doing well when you first came back. I guess he-”

Jon’s eyes narrow. “He noticed that about me? I have barely seen Batman since I came back. The few times I’ve seen you, I haven’t seen him around and he’s come over, like, once or twice but that’s it. He talks with Mom and Dad and they drink coffee and he doesn’t even talk with me. I bet you my dad told him to tell you so that you could get me to open up- whatever that means.”

“Wise thinking there, Kent,” Damian puts his hands up defensively. “Can you blame him? Apparently, you’re not acting like yourself.”

“What even is acting like ‘myself?’ They weren’t around for a while and I changed and they’re all over me! Did you like it when your dad tracked your every single move? I remember you complaining that he’s paranoid and doesn’t let you do anything.”

“He still does that,” Damian snaps, and oh boy, he’s getting defensive, and even worse, for some reason, Jon doesn’t care.

“Sure about that? I heard about what you did with your team.” and bam, Jon’s stricken a cord, “The entire prison concept and the bam-’I’ll wipe out your memories and you’ll be good’ idea that you came up with. Batman didn’t stop you- hell, he didn’t even know about it.”

“Don’t bloody judge my actions! I did what I thought was right! And just ‘cause he didn’t know doesn’t mean he wasn’t watching! And why are we talking about me!”

“‘Cause you want to come here and be a therapist instead of a friend when you’re the one who needs to sort out your issues! And maybe I didn’t realize it when I was ten, but I sure as hell do now!”

“I’m going to shove you off this building, you blundering-”

“And then what? Call one of your friends to alter my memory about this entire situation? Oh, and I can fly, dummy.”

“Stop acting like you know what happened! Just stop!” And damn, is it just Jon or does Damian look and seem small suddenly. Jon stands up and Damian starts taking steps back. “What would you even know, hu? You disappeared!”

“You say it like it’s my fault!” Jon shouts. 

“Didn’t you say it was your choice?”

“Did I know that seven years of my life would be spent away? No!” There’s a silence and Jon can tell Damian’s trying to muster something up to shoot back. He huffs, a flash of guilt burning hot against his throat. He’s a seventeen-year-old shouting at a thirteen-year-old that’s not even half of his height. “Listen, Dami, I didn’t mean to take anything out on you.” 

“Yeah?” Damian scoffs, raising his hood. “I thought not. Go and take it out on your parents. They’re the ones that let you go. See you later, I guess.”

.

.

.

His dad doesn’t bring it up for a few days. Life carries on. Homework. Mom. Video games. A bit of training. Patrol with Dad. Home. Sleep. Worry a bit about Damian.

He does a lot of thinking. Especially when he’s flying by his dad’s side. About this entire situation. About his mom. About his dad. About his own future.“We love you lots, Jon,” Clark begins and Jon stifles a groan, “That’s why we are the way we are right now. We just- we just don’t know how to deal with this.”

“Honestly, Dad, I’m not sure how to deal with this either.” They don’t talk about it after. It’ll get better as time passes, Jon supposes. 

“I’m thinking about getting a fade, Mom,” he tells her jokingly one day and she smirks. 

“That’ll make it easier for you to be recognized.”

“Nah nearly every teenager had one- they get the top curled, too.”

“So I’ve seen. They all look like clones. It’s ridiculous.” 

“Are clones teenagers? Are teenagers clones? Sounds like a good headline. Maybe you should write about it?” he asks teasingly and she chuckles before continuing to type out whatever article she was working on before. 

“Mom?”

“Hmm.” 

“Thanks,” and he hears her swivel chair move but doesn’t look up- can’t afford to look up without his eyes getting teary. 

“It seems like it’s going to rain today,” she says and he smiles.

.

.

.

Damian is patrolling with Tim when Jon shows up- he’s tempted to tell Jon to go away, but he and Tim had fought earlier and his half Kryptonian friend showing up was a perfect excuse to ditch his brother. “Go ahead,” he commands Tim, who most definitely rolls his eyes under his mask before grappling away. “What’s the matter?” 

“Can’t drop by and see my friend?” Jon asks, and ugh, he’s come to apologize. Now should he stay angry at him and torture him a bit or accept his apology and go home and play some video games? Damian’s life was soo complicated. “Actually, I was gonna ask if you want to go flying-”

“As long as I get to choose where to go,” he decides. Might as well show that he still has the upper hand in this friendship. Jon hesitates, with furrowed eyebrows. Great. He had something in mine.

“I was kinda hungry,” Jon starts, “Kinda wanted some hot dogs.”

“Yeah sure, but I’m not that hungry,” Damian replies, mentally groaning at how quickly he agreed. They don’t go far. There’s a hot dog that Richard used to take him to all the time. Jon orders four or so chili dogs with two vanilla shakes and he just gets a vanilla shake. They sit on a rooftop close by, at first in silence. Damian is not so sure he’s here to apologize anymore. Jon stuffs his face ruthlessly. It kind of disgusts him, but hey, he’s not about to make things more awkward by calling him out. 

“Mom and Dad are always surprised by my so-called- newfound appetite,” Jon comments before he downs the next shake. 

“And they thought you were bad when you were ten,” he responds, smirking. “I’ve actually started snacking more. Stephanie and Timothy keep stocking up the pantry with junk and unfortunately, most of said junk is now hidden in my closet.” 

“Hey, I don’t see any harm in that. And aww, you call him Timothy now. What happened to Drake?”

“Of course we can’t see the harm that junk causes. It’s in us. And whatever.”

“Okay, buddy.” Jon gestures to his half-finished shake, “You gonna finish that?” Yes, of course he is. Not bothering to reply, Damian takes a long sip and looks away. “You know,” he begins, “I didn’t mean to- to shout at you.” 

A “hmm” is all Damian can muster out. He knew that before anyways. What should he say? No worries, bud, it must be tough on you? No, it doesn’t sound like him at all. You should be sorry? I stressed over how to approach you about this for weeks. Yuck. Sounds even less like him. 

“And I know you didn’t mean wrong. And I know Dad and Mom and no one was treating me in a way to make me feel uncomfortable. It just- it bothered me.”

“I can relate, I guess,” he replies, cause he doesn’t want Jon to ramble on. “I get bothered by others so easily, I should understand how you felt.” There’s a pregnant pause and Damian turns to face Jon, whose eyes seem glued to the apartment window across them. The curtains are drawn together, but they’re see-through so they can see the silhouettes of children running back and forth. “We’re never going to be normal, Jon.”

“I know that nothing’s going to be the same, but I missed back home so much while I was gone but now, back home doesn’t feel like home. It will soon. I know it.”

“Always so optimistic,” Damian interrupts. This Jon is feeling more and more like Richard. It might be the height or the blue eyes or the emotions he’s going through. After remembering, Richard tossed himself into a pool of depression and self-loathing.

“Yessir,” Jon replies jokingly, but he quickly turns serious, “We need to catch up on a lot, you know.” 

Damian nods. They sure do. “We have all the time in the world,” he replies, and Jon looks at him, sporting a small frown.

“I hope so.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
